


Intrigue

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Character Study, Developing Relationship, M/M, Neuroatypical Characters, Neurological Disorders, SHSL Rare Pair Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lately, he's found himself fixated on Komaeda. It could be for a number of things: Komaeda's peculiarity, his persistence despite his passivity, his curiosity despite his caution, that Komaeda is the one he's closest to, or it could be due to those remnants that respond so favorably to praise and intrigue.</p>
<p>Kamukura does wonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intrigue

**Author's Note:**

> Also written for that rare pair week thing and also I need to edit that KomaNami.
> 
> I really don't have much of anything to say because I don't know what happened here.

Initially, he suspects the reasoning is due to those remnants he’s all too aware of. Small, pitiful, clinging things that respond to the praise and intrigue of others, desperately thrilling for more, wanting to indulge in these pathetically validating sentiments, wanting to drown in them to block out the more suffocating, looming negativity.

But perhaps it’s really himself after all—his interest piqued from just how god-forsakenly persistent in some aspects Komaeda Nagito is.

“Kamukura-kun, good morning! Shall we leave?” It’s as usual with this one, asking even though Komaeda decides on his own to walk once he mutely passes him by, having been the one to start this dull routine to start with— _“we’re going the same way, after all”_ was the justification followed with a giggle that sounded too high-pitched and harsh to be made by such a thin, fragile-looking throat—and he himself has no interest in turning down these decisions, as well as turning down Komaeda altogether to an extent.

Though if he had bothered with the rejection, perhaps Komaeda, for all his reverence and reservations, would have just bowed out gracefully, and the possibility is a painfully likely one with how well Kamukura already knows him. It’d be simply dull for his expectations involving the other to be met now when Komaeda’s just started to catch his eye.

Now, for instance, Komaeda is silently wringing his hands, the pale fingers entwining and running over bony knuckles and blue veins. He thinks, for a moment, what the other’s reaction would be if he decided to take one of those hands in his own and squeezed the frail thing tight. The most common reaction would be to blush, and on Komaeda’s pallor, it’d certainly stand out.

He’s also yet to have witnessed such a response— _so_ , he decides as he immediately reaches out,  _why not now_?

Initially, he confirms his suspicions that Komaeda’s hand truly felt as bony and frail as it looked. It fit finely in his grip, though Kamukura found he couldn’t care much for the coldness of those fingers that should have been warmer. His gaze drifts to Komaeda’s face, and what he sees is Komaeda just staring blankly at his gripped hand—the two have them had paused in their walking, and Kamukura hears the distant ring of someone’s bicycle louder than Komaeda’s soft inhale and breath of “oh”.

“No.” Komaeda mutters after, significantly louder and his other physical response is prying Kamukura’s hand off—this he actually allows, quirking an eyebrow at the distance in Komaeda’s stare, the tight, straight line of his lips as he manages to pull his hand back and shuffles both of them into his coat pockets. That expected pink touches his cheeks, but the smile he gives is wry and waned. “Kamukura-kun, we need to get going. Sensei dislikes tardy students and I’d hate to dent your perfect record even a little.”

With that he walks on ahead and Kamukura merely follows, catching up the slight distance easily, and with the way Komaeda looks ahead with that continuous blank smile and gaze straight ahead, it’s clear his intent is to remain silent for the remainder of the walk.

It’s...not that odd. It’s normal for Komaeda to retreat into silence when put into a situation that makes him feel uncomfortable. For someone who’s persistent at times—at others, he’s beyond reasonably cautious. But, all the same.

Kamukura wonders.

* * *

Perhaps it’s because, in a way, Komaeda is who he is closest to, and the reason behind that is because of Komaeda’s persistence. Despite how coldly Kamukura treated him initially, Komaeda kept creeping close to him even when their classmates kept their distance, unnerved and at many times aggravated with the brunet’s behavior. Komaeda still looked at him with an untainted admiration and curiosity, still smiled easily in his direction when even others had trouble. Komaeda laughs, sometimes, in their ‘conversations’ as though the two of them are friends, and despite how easy it is to set off his skittishness, more often than not he seems at ease when so close.

Even now, when the two of them are at lunch, Komaeda takes his usual seat across from him at the edge of the table and cheerily greets him as though nothing had changed. He picks at his food as normal, making tearing his roll into pieces look like a meticulous act. Kamukura does the same, but out of boredom. For Komaeda it’s just one of his many particular habits.

Komaeda is a particular person—it’s why others assume he seems to ‘get along’ so well with Kamukura. Others suspect Komaeda, with his eccentricities and constant self-deprecation, ‘got off’ on cold, rough treatment. He certainly seemed overly friendly with Matsuda Yasuke, even though Matsuda was outwardly unfriendly and unkind. But  _to Matsuda_ , Komaeda was a ‘patient’—once he  _couldn’t_  shut out whenever he was approached, even if unnecessarily so.

Kamukura strongly suspects that  _that_ —the unwillingness to drive him off if not avoid him altogether—is what contributes to Komaeda’s ‘closeness’ with both of them. That and with the comfortableness of Komaeda’s calm if a bit peculiar presence—Komaeda most likely knows they don’t  _mind_  having him around unlike others.

It’s really nothing spectacular. In silence, Komaeda was also quiet—not easily set off. It’s quiet now and even with the fresh memory of this morning, the atmosphere in which they eat is unobtrusive and calm. Though perhaps Komaeda was eating a bit too slowly, sluggishly.

“Komaeda,” That quiet calm can be so easily disturbed, given the way Komaeda’s gaze snaps up, eyes wide before he blinks a couple of times and manages his small, uncertain smile. Kamukura’s stare boring into him makes him uncomfortable this time. It always takes a while for previous stirred water to settle.

“Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda responds politely, and that smile widens a little more as he sighs. “Can I...apologize for earlier?”

His brows rose, his own response silent. Komaeda chuckles lowly, but he understood well enough and continues, going on and on, “I was startled. The last time someone tried to touch me was a while ago, not including Matsuda-kun’s checkups.  _Ah_ , if you’re interested in  _that_  kind of relationship, I-! It’s fine if you do! I must have bored you with my chattering lately—it’s no wonder you want something new...”

“You should keep your voice quieter saying such things,” he replied finally, dully, watching as Komaeda wanes even more. “Do you want our classmates to overhear?”

“Do you care about that, Kamukura-kun?” Komaeda asks, almost stiffly, and then he laughs, going on again without missing a beat, “O-Of course! That’s right! I was just being ridiculous again! It’s bad enough that Kamukura-kun tolerates me enough that people already assume, and to seemingly confirm those assumptions would be concerning... K-Kamukura-kun already has so many unpleasant things to deal with because of me... To make it worse would be—”

“ _I_ don’t care.” Kamukura cuts him off coldly. “ _You’re_  the one who has more to be concerned about when it comes to our classmates. You’re the one who  _cares_  more about them after all.”

“Ah...” Confusion flickers across those frail features. “Does Kamukura-kun really think that way?”

He doesn’t need to answer something so painfully obvious.

Komaeda was the one always offering his assistance even where it wasn’t wanted, and he was the one always talking about how great they were or at least would be. Praising each one on their personal ‘talents’ and never picking favorites in that sense. It was only those willing to put up with them that he drew near to—not out of favoritism either, but most likely a sense of loneliness. Komaeda wasn’t like him or Matsuda—his reservations were out of apprehension, not any sort of detachment.

_Though with Komaeda feeling more comfortable around them..._

“I am interested,” he says, to which Komaeda’s eyes go wide, “in changing things between us.”

“O-Oh...” Almost immediately, his eyes and head drop, and Komaeda swallows before pinning on another one of those smiles. “Okay then, Kamukura-kun.”

**_How long would_ ** **that _last?_**

* * *

Like Matsuda is when treating and doing tests, Kamukura is careful in contact. Even prior to this change, he rarely if ever initiated such—always content to watch, to  _observe_ , and he does that here as well with Komaeda. He’s quick to catch when Komaeda’s uncertainty builds—any twitch in his smile and fingers as Kamukura’s digits skim from those thin knuckles to a bony wrist. These reactions are what Kamukura is most focused on and curious about.

Because lately, it’s Komaeda’s expressions and quirks that, rather him growing used to and tired of, end up continuously attaining his attention. And now, he’s wondering if it’s possible to really control such things through a simple touch.

Simple. He knows it’ll be easy enough to influence, to coax, but to control is on another level entirely. But he’ll be careful—he knows how brittle and broken Komaeda is—how withering and rotting from the inside his body is. How he just barely skirts along the line of a complete breakdown seemingly endlessly. It’d be too cruel to unceremoniously shove him over that thin line. Too much.

He wouldn’t do that. He has no wish to. The very idea is an indescribably insulting one. Hence why he has to be careful.

They’re just sitting for now, they should be relaxing under the shade of a sheltering tree, the gentle sun, the softer breeze rustling the grass and the dandelions. But Komaeda may be tense and Kamukura is deeply fixated on those twitching features, the inhaling suck of his breath as his wrist is taken by those stern yet warmer than his own fingers.

He’s careful. And yet.

He can almost hear the crack, however hairline and inaudible, as he presses his lips to the protruding bone of that wrist. Komaeda flinches, and when his eyes glance up, he sees that flush across his face. He loosens his grip, enough that Komaeda’s hand could slip out if he so wished. Which it did. Komaeda gripped his wrist tightly in his other hand, thumb running over the knob of the bone where that kiss had been, and his voice is barely above a whisper, “Kamukura-kun, do you like me?”

He hums in response—the sound neutral, ambiguous, and Komaeda’s shoulders jerk with the sudden, sharp laugh. “That was a stupid question, right? But I’m curious. Your care is a bit much here so—so I was wondering about it... But if my chattering is getting on your nerves when you just want me pliant, then I can be...”

“It’s fine, Komaeda.” A pause. “You’re uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

“...Mm... That doesn’t matter...”  _Doesn’t it?_  Perhaps he should have expected Komaeda to read into things differently and like  _this_. As perceptive as the white-haired youth could be, his views could be so very narrow. A dull on what could have been a sharp blade. “I...don’t mind as long as it’s Kamukura-kun...”

Influencing. Coaxing. Both could be so simple with someone like Komaeda, who could almost be  _defined_  purely through his passivity. But that’d get boring so quickly with himself unwilling to cross that dangerous line that Komaeda would so easily allow. No, he didn’t desire that at all.

“Don’t say such things when you don’t completely mean them.” Komaeda flinches again, but Kamukura stands, and turns off to the distance. He can see the other students—smiling and walking—and his eyes narrow before he speaks back to Komaeda from over his shoulder, “These are the kinds of days you like walking around most, right Komaeda? Let’s go then. It’s no good to sit still for too long.”

“Ah... Yes...” Whether a confirmation or an agreement—both, likely—Komaeda gets up after him, Draws near when Kamukura gestures for such, and their arms nearly brush against one another as Komaeda’s wide curious eyes stare up at him before he smiles. “It’s a lovely day. I think the gardens will look lovely as well.”

They will. The sunlight and its brightness will complement the colors pleasantly enough. It’ll certainly be calming to watch them—Komaeda, certainly, always seemed at his most ease when—yes, he wouldn’t mind it himself either.

He keeps his voice low, even as Komaeda cheerily nods, “Let’s go then.”

* * *

Even though he knows how Komaeda is, those expressions he thought he had gotten used too still demand his gaze. He can’t look away, can’t help but notice the different ways in which rays of sunshine reflect off Komaeda’s features and smiles and how the breeze ruffles his hair—how Komaeda keeps smiling even as he has to brush that fringe back, tucking the curls behind his ear.

It shouldn’t have taken that long, but he had been so focused he hadn’t noticed the sun had gotten dimmer even as Komaeda’s smiling face remained bright and chipper. At some point, Komaeda had managed to drag him into explaining botany behind the different plants in the garden—time flew by with Komaeda intently listening, looking at him with those bright, bright eyes, like he were an attentive student of his rather than a peer.

There was always satisfaction at that—slight, slight satisfaction from those remnants when he didn’t bother smothering it, and somehow, he found himself falling into his own ease. The disruption that came when Komaeda realized the time was all the more unpleasant for it.

Komaeda stricken and in a rush was a rarity— _though not one he could say he was terribly interested in_ —this time, he frets even more than usual. At one point, he tripped and would have tumbled to the ground had Kamukura not caught him and settled him back on shaky feet. The buildings looming high above them cast a dark shadow, making close, sharp observation rather difficult, but he could hear Matsuda’s voice calling for Komaeda all too well. Komaeda, given his cringe and immediately snap to the irritated neurologist approaching them, a scowl twisting his features.

“ _Where_ ,” Matsuda hissed, “ ** _were_**  you? Did that brain rot in your head finally get so bad that you started forgetting  _daily_  appointments?”

“I’m sorry, Matsuda-kun.” Soft. Not even bothering to explain or defend. Matsuda huffed, and Komaeda’s chuckle was meek. “I don’t think I’ve gotten that bad yet though, so don’t worry.”

“Is  _that_  all?” The other snorted though that scowl smoothed into a glare that was simply stern before he turned to Kamukura. “Fortunately, I needed to find you too.” The words were direct, matter-of-fact, even if the clear irritation hadn’t completely faded. “So this isn’t  _too_  bad—certainly preferable to when this careless idiot nearly died in a ditch. But that he’d simply lose track of time is still...suspicious when  _you’re_  the only other one he’s hangs out with.”

“I was just being careless,” Komaeda mutters at the same time Kamukura admits,

“We were spending time together. Our relationship has changed, Matsuda.”

Matsuda’s brow furrowed, then he looked between them. Komaeda was...flustered—unable to look at either of them and blushing as he wrung his hands. His fingers were tense as they entwined, a swirl in his gray-green gaze, and a hard enough stare indicated he might have even been trembling a bit before he nodded, confirming the statement before mumbling almost inaudibly, “It’s not as though someone like me deserves relationships in the first place, but Kamukura-kun had...”

“Komaeda,” he’s cut short, and Matsuda speaks quickly, simply. “Let’s just go for now. We need to hurry. Got it?”

Komaeda quickly nods, and Matsuda only glances Kamukura’s way fleetingly before he leads the two of them back. Aggravated. On edge. Suspicious. Komaeda, quietly keeping up with the two of them maintained an obedient sort of docility, and only vaguely keeping his eyes low, on Matsuda’s back—though Kamukura caught when those eyes flickered and met his own if only for a brief moment.

* * *

He waits outside as they run the usual tests and treatments. It takes longer than he expected but it’s not overly concerning. Komaeda comes out soon enough, nodding towards him and muttering that he’ll be the one to wait outside next as Matsuda talks to Kamukura. He ends up telling Komaeda that’s unnecessary— _leave and rest, it’s been a long day hasn’t it_ —but Komaeda doesn’t respond in the time it takes Matsuda to call him, demanding he’d hurry.

The door ends up shutting between them with nothing else.

“It’s the usual checkup—shouldn’t take long at all,” Matsuda was muttering, though he sounded more irritated than usual. Than before as well. But it means little to Kamukura who simply sits down for the brain scans— _that usually comes first_ —and Matsuda’s pencil taps against his clipboard and right as he’s about to shut his eyes, Matsuda asks, “Komaeda. Really?  _Him_?”

“Him.” A simple enough confirmation. One Kamukura feels no need to defend.

“You’re not played mind games with someone  _demented_ , are you?” His voice is low, unjudging but there’s a sharpness to his tone that could be noted if paid enough attention to. Kamukura blinks up at the ceiling, and Matsuda goes on, “That’s messed up, even for you, in that case.”

“He has my interest for some reason so I study him.” He answers simply, finally. “I was curious. But mind games...would be a bit much.  _Especially_  for someone like him.”

“It would be,” Matsuda agreed lowly. “That said, your explanation sounds creepy. For the sake of making my life as Komaeda’s ‘doctor’ in this godforsaken place, I suggest you tone that down around him and in general. Don’t forget  _you’re_  being studied as well, Kamukura. The last thing you want to be is concluded as a failed experiment.”

Kamukura shut his eyes, and sighed, “Just get the scans over with, Matsuda-kun.”

“Sure thing, creep.”

* * *

“I told you waiting was unnecessary, Komaeda.”

“How’d it go, Kamukura-kun?” Komaeda ignores the comment, but given by his cheeky smile, that’s enough of an answer to the implied question. Kamukura doesn’t answer his question however, and goes on his way. Komaeda, of course, follows brightly after him, humming as their steps fell in sync with one another. “I admit, Kamukura-kun, it is strange that someone like you gets checkups from Matsuda-kun too. Could it be you’re not entirely perfect after all?”

“You have an interesting idea of flaws,” Kamukura mused. “Or do you expect we’re similar in that regard?”

“ _Are_  we?” Komaeda asks, almost immediately with widened eyes like he hadn’t considered it. “Kamukura-kun, is it true that you’re also...?”

“No, that’s wrong. And there is nothing more to say on the matter.” And he left it at that. Komaeda made a ‘huh’ sound and sighed.

“That’s cruel, you know,” the other stated matter-of-factly, “keeping as many  _secrets_ as you do. Especially since I’m your significant other now—it certainly doesn’t help me feel like I  _am_  your significant other now anyway.”

“Should I call you by your given name then?” he responded drearily, and then strung the syllables together seamlessly, naturally, “Na _gi_ to.”

Komaeda stopped dead in his tracks. Kamukura paused as well, looking back quizzically and he let out a heavy sigh, “That’s just unfair, Kamukura-kun. What if we get hit by a truck on the way back because you said that?”

Red eyes narrowed. “That won’t happen.”

“You sound so sure about that,” Komaeda murmured, and Kamukura said nothing to that, eyes sweeping Komaeda’s form—he was holding himself tight, withdrawn and closed off, that smile was too wide, too quirked for those eyes that were averted and looking down, unsettled and on edge. “Ha... _Haa_. I wonder what kind of luck this is—it’s certainly  _dangerous_  either way, Kamukura-kun...”

Passive. How was it that someone like this ended up an object of engrossment? But it was clear the brunet could still see the ticks and grinds of gears in that gray-green gaze of his, however faulty or stunted they may have been. Komaeda was as intelligent as he was ridiculous. There was something admirable in such a quality.  _Still..._

“Nagito,” Komaeda simply perked up, almost like he already accepted it despite those earlier statements.  ** _Really_**. “You worry a lot, don’t you?”

“Mm. Especially when everything seems to be going to well.” A small laugh—a sad one, Komaeda’s shoulders hunching as he tucks back those unruly white curls again. “Even Matsuda-kun thinks it’s a bit much... But Kamukura-kun understands, right?”

“I do.” The admittance seemed like a little one but the way Komaeda smiles brightly at him, that adulation in his gaze and warmth softening those already malleable features, he knows how he responds to such an expression. It’s as though those remnants are swelling, buzzing and almost overwhelming, and despite that, his responding frown is deep.

“As expected from Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda says brightly all the same, of course unaware—“Of course, I still can’t help but worry. Especially now when I can’t help but feel so happy.”

“Hm.” And then his hand reaches, brushing his fingers along the curve of Komaeda’s cheek. He blushes, as expected, and then tilts away from that touch.  _Soundless_ —his heart beats a bit harder.

“Kamukura-kun, I wonder about you though.” Another laugh, and Kamukura immediately sees how this time that stare bores into him. Intense. Studying. Far more intent than those blankly smiling researchers on such a soft face, and again he can almost hear the  _ticking_. “I feel that we’re very similar people, even if I’ve yet to figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. But perhaps you feel it too, Kamukura-kun?”

“Perhaps.” That blank smile widens and it’s only confirmation that the tables have truly turned in this instance. He supposes this should bother him more than it does—it does, those remnants are buzzing again but in a completely different way than before, but this time he smothers them accordingly, stamps them so far into the ground that all they can and  _should_  do is fully deteriorate as they were supposed to from the start. With that, Kamukura continues, “Is that something that makes you happy regardless, Nagito?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet either—but it’s certainly exciting in some ways, isn’t it? Like I’m soon going to be privy to something  _world-shaking_.” Komaeda shook a bit with his giggle, fingers entwining and tightening. “Kamukura-kun, you’re really something incredible though—that much I’m sure of, which is what certainly makes this whole situation something  _else_... Hey, Kamukura-kun, do you like me after all?”

“Is that really what you want to know the most about this?” All he can do is ask. “That’s rather boring of you, Nagito.”

“That’s rather cold!!” Komaeda’s laugh—high-pitched and screechy—and he trembled again. “Kamukura-kun, I really do wonder about you.”

Kamukura almost said something to that, but he stopped once he realized Komaeda wanted to continue—that his shuddering stilled with one final shiver, and Komaeda gave him that smile again. “I like you though, Kamukura-kun. That much I think is true thus far.”

To that, he can only sigh. “You are _something_ , Komaeda Nagito. I can see my interest is decently enough placed.”

Only time will tell where this will all end up, he thinks. However he still hears that tickling and the world turning with everything else, and without pondering it too much, his prediction is made for what those results will be. But in front of him, Komaeda remains an ambiguous factor. With his smile now, still soft and warm and stirring those crushed remnants again, Kamukura wonders if the safest option would have been shoving him away after all.

But that interest moves him instead, gesturing for the two of them to get going and having Komaeda back to trailing cheerily after him, even with those now bright eyes of expectation. Somehow, even stranger, even if this is the riskier option, it feels as though it’s the most right.

Perhaps Nagito had been right then. He really was something  _else_.


End file.
